"God knew my heart needed you................................"

“You’re awfully quiet now,” Vatsal said, his voice pulling her from her thoughts. He stepped away from the window, walking back toward her slowly, the air around him still thick with that same confidence. “What’s going on in that overactive mind of yours?”

Shubhita swallowed, her gaze locking on him as he approached. His steps were deliberate, each one slow and calculated, as if he knew exactly the effect it would have on her. She wanted to be quick with a response, a sharp retort that would bring back the usual banter. But instead, she found herself frozen, her breath catching as he came to a stop just in front of her.

“Nothing,” she lied, her voice quieter than she had intended.

Vatsal tilted his head, his smirk fading into something softer, more knowing. “Nothing, huh? Doesn’t seem like nothing.” His hand reached out, his fingers brushing against a lock of her hair that had fallen over her shoulder. He twirled it between his fingers absentmindedly, his touch light but purposeful.

Shubhita’s heart raced as she watched him, every nerve in her body lighting up at the simple gesture. She wanted to pull away, to break the spell he seemed to have cast over her, but she couldn’t. Instead, she sat there, her pulse quickening as his hand trailed down the length of her hair before he let it fall back into place.

He didn’t step back. He stayed close, his eyes holding hers with an intensity that made her feel like the ground beneath her was slipping away. She could see the unspoken question in his gaze, the challenge in his eyes that dared her to react, to do something.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she finally managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Vatsal’s smile returned, slow and lazy, as he leaned down just a little closer, his breath warm against her cheek. “Maybe,” he murmured, his tone filled with that maddening tease again. “Or maybe I just like seeing you like this.”

Shubhita’s breath hitched at his words, her pulse hammering in her chest. She wanted to snap back at him, but the words were lost in the haze of tension that had thickened the room. Her mind scrambled to regain control, but her body had already betrayed her—the way her fingers gripped the edge of the couch, the way her knees brushed against his.

Vatsal’s gaze flickered downward again, just for a moment, catching the slight parting of her lips. It was enough to send another jolt of awareness through her. He was close enough now that if she shifted even an inch forward, they’d kiss.

He knew that. She could tell by the way his eyes darkened, the slight pause in his breath, as if he was waiting for her to make the move, to close the distance between them. But he didn’t. He lingered there, his presence overwhelming her senses, his lips hovering close but not touching.

“Not again, for god’s sake.” She muttered under her breath.

“You’re not as bossy now, are you?” he whispered, his voice low and teasing. The smirk on his face deepened, and Shubhita’s heart skipped a beat again.

The challenge in his voice made her cheeks flush deeper. “Don’t get too cocky,” she muttered, but it lacked the bite she intended. Her voice sounded almost breathless, and she hated how much power he seemed to hold over her in that moment.

Vatsal chuckled softly, his breath ghosting over her skin as he leaned just a fraction closer, his lips brushing the air between them but never touching hers. His hand lifted, his fingers grazing lightly over her jawline, tracing the curve with maddening softness.

Shubhita felt the air between them grow heavier yet again, charged with an electricity she couldn’t ignore. Her body responded to his every movement—the brush of his fingers, the closeness of his lips, the slow, deliberate pace of his teasing. She could barely breathe, caught between the need to pull away and the desire to close the gap between them.

“Vatsal…” her voice came out in a whisper, barely audible.

He leaned even closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to hers. For a split second, she thought he was finally going to kiss her, that all the teasing, the tension, the maddening back-and-forth was about to culminate in the one thing they both knew was inevitable.

But instead, he paused. His lips just inches away, his breath mingling with hers, he stayed there, letting the moment stretch out, letting the anticipation build.

Then, without warning, he tilted his head and placed a soft, lingering peck near her lips. It was gentle, almost chaste, but it sent a wave of heat crashing through her all the same. She could feel the warmth of his lips long after they had pulled away, leaving her stunned and breathless.

Vatsal pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes glinting with amusement and something else—something that made her stomach flip. He was enjoying this, watching her flustered, caught off guard, and entirely at his mercy.

“Don’t look so disappointed,” he whispered, his lips quirking into a smile.

The sarcasm in his voice was unmistakable, and before she could even muster a response, he stood up, leaving her there, breathless and aching with unspoken desire.

She was in trouble. Yet again!

After always being in control, Shubhita felt like she was treading new territory. That night, she lay on her side, her back facing Vatsal as the two of them shared the bed, the tension from their almost-kiss still heavy in the air. She closed her eyes, hoping to calm the racing thoughts in her mind, but her body betrayed her, still charged from their earlier interaction.

Vatsal, too, lay awake, his body relaxed but his mind whirring. He found it amusing how Shubhita, who was always composed and bossy, now seemed so rattled by his teasing. He turned his head slightly, catching a glimpse of her back. She was trying to appear unaffected, but he could sense the nervous energy that still clung to the air between them. It made him smile.

They didn’t talk much after those intense moments—neither of them wanting to address it directly. Instead, they exchanged a few sarcastic remarks before retreating into a comfortable silence. Vatsal shifted, his movements slight but enough to make his presence known. His body heat radiated toward Shubhita, making her more aware of the proximity than she already was.

She squeezed her eyes shut, pretending to sleep, hoping that tomorrow would bring some relief from the mounting tension. But as the night wore on, the anticipation of the next day only seemed to grow.

_

_

_

Shubhita woke up to the faint sounds of Vatsal moving around the room, his footsteps light but quick, an unusual sense of urgency filling the space. It was still dark outside. Her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the light of their room’s enormous LED bulb. She stretched lazily, expecting to see him still sprawled on the bed, teasing her about something mundane, but instead, he was dressed, fixing his hair in the mirror.

He was in a rush, moving swiftly, his usual playful demeanor masked by the tension of an early start.

“You’re up early,” Shubhita remarked, her voice thick with sleep, her brow furrowing slightly in surprise.

Vatsal glanced over at her, the corners of his mouth twitching into the faintest of smirks. “Don’t get used to it,” he said, his tone clipped but familiar, “I’ve to go for a coverage.”

Shubhita let out a small yawn and nodded, pulling the blanket tighter around her. “Good. Means I can finally enjoy a morning in peace without your constant pestering.”

Vatsal’s lips twitched into a full smile now, though he didn’t stop adjusting his collar. “Yeah, right. You’d miss me,” he muttered, clearly distracted by his hair.

The banter was light, almost routine, but something about the way he moved felt off. He was too fast, too focused. Normally, Vatsal would take his sweet time annoying her in the morning with his meany remarks and laziness, but today, there was an unfamiliar efficiency in his movements.

She watched him gather his things—his laptop, his bag—without sparing her much more than a glance. “I’m leaving in five, don’t wait up. Will lock from outside.”

“Yeah, whatever,” she mumbled, turning over in bed, pretending to drift back to sleep. But as soon as her back was to him, she felt a strange pull, the tension between them unmistakable, even in his hurry.

Her heart raced a little as she heard him walking towards the door. Was that it? Was he just going to leave? Just like that? No teasing, no sarcastic comment, no final remark? It wasn’t like him.

And then, right as she was about to close her eyes, she felt the mattress dip slightly. Her body tensed instinctively. He was standing right beside her, the weight of his presence hanging over her like a storm cloud.

“Are you asleep already?” Vatsal’s voice was low now, softer, laced with amusement.

She refused to turn around, refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’d caught her off guard. “Yes,” she replied, her voice muffled into the pillow.

“Liar,” he murmured.

There was a pause, and then she felt it. A light touch—his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. It was tender, almost too gentle for him, and it sent a shiver down her spine. Shubhita’s breath caught, but she remained still, refusing to react.

He lingered there for a moment, his fingers barely touching her skin, the tension between them simmering beneath the surface. And then, just as quickly as he had leaned in, he straightened up, stepping away from the bed. She thought it was over—that he was finally leaving. But of course, that would’ve been too easy.

“Oh, I almost forgot something.” He voiced.

Shubhita’s eyes snapped open at his words, her heart pounding. She didn’t move, but she could feel his gaze on her. “What now?” she mumbled, her voice betraying her growing irritation and curiosity.

In an instant, he was back at her side, quicker than she anticipated. He crouched down so that they were level, his face close to hers, far too close for comfort. His eyes flickered with mischief, his lips curling into a smirk.

Her breath hitched, and before she could respond, Vatsal leaned in, brushing his lips lightly against her forehead. The touch was fleeting, barely there, but it sent a bolt of electricity through her.

The kiss wasn’t meant to be intimate—it was a game, a taunt. Yet it lingered in the air, heating her cheeks and twisting her insides.

“Vatsal…” she began, her voice shaky with both surprise and the rush of emotions swirling within her.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes filled with amusement, clearly revelling in her reaction. “You look... flustered,” he teased softly. “And you wanted me to change. Can’t handle a little goodbye?”

Shubhita’s face burned, the tension between them crackling like electricity. She wanted to push him away, to say something cutting and sarcastic, but her brain couldn’t form a coherent thought. He had her pinned, not physically but emotionally, leaving her unable to respond.

Vatsal’s eyes sparkled with the victory of having left her speechless. “I’ll take that as a no,” he said smoothly, standing up and turning toward the door once more.

Just when she thought he was finally gone, he paused again. His hand was on the door handle, but his body language shifted, and before Shubhita could say anything, he glanced back over his shoulder, locking eyes with her.

With an infuriatingly cocky grin, he winked at her. “You’ll survive without me for a few hours, won’t you?”

And with that, he slipped out the door, the soft click of it closing behind him. Shubhita sat up, blinking in disbelief, her forehead still tingling from the kiss, her heart racing from the unexpected turn of events.

She touched her forehead absentmindedly, frustration and something else—something she didn’t want to name—swirling inside her. “Damn him,” she muttered under her breath.

But even as the words left her mouth, the corners of her lips twitched into a small, reluctant smile. Vatsal might have left in a hurry, but he made sure to leave her with something to think about. Something that lingered long after he was gone.